


I'm Only Dancing

by Bumblebeexe



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Chyan - Freeform, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Fluff, High School Musical - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mild Angst, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumblebeexe/pseuds/Bumblebeexe
Summary: A slow burn story about the boys learning to be themselves without the influence of their peers.P.S. have a fluff playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Fxp1qmNNnvE16DR2jn0Cm?si=42M2GD8qSSuXbFDV6hp9zQ
Relationships: Chad Danforth/Ryan Evans
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	1. Prologue: Sibling Ties

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I do not own the characters or the High School Musical Fandom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prologue train of thought from Ryans POV

Sharpay has all the makings of a supervillain; wealth, an attitude, and the power of persuasion that borders on vindictive manipulation. She isn’t evil though, at least I don’t think so. As her twin, I would have the inside knowledge to know if she was truly as much of a bitch as she seems. I think the real truth is much simpler, she is spoiled rotten. She’s never been told no a day in her life. If she asked for the moon I am sure our parents would find a way to yank it from the sky and place it in her bedroom and she would find a way to take a quarter of it and fit it in mine. If she gets a pink dress, I get a pink hat. If she gets a lead role, I get the second. If she has a date I...choose the outfit. She tries her best to make sure all of her victories are our victories.

  
Similarly, she makes sure my failures are ours to share. When I break something she says I was trying to fix it for her. When she can’t secure me a role she says she didn’t get cast either. I am aware that this dynamic makes people assume I am her lap dog or in some way complicit in her less kind schemes. I am aware that in some way that is true. It isn’t because of some manipulation though, I want to be there to catch her if she somehow falls off her high horse atop the pedestal she sits on.

  
I can’t say I’m not spoiled either, I have a huge room in a huge house, with a family who never struggles to provide. I am allowed to act and dance and wear bright colours. Although I have been told no. I have been told to tone myself down around others, to pay attention to the men at Lava Springs, and emulate how to be reserved and masculine. I have been told that there is more to life than theatre and Sharpay.

  
It’s where I am the most myself, in technicality, it’s where I am the least myself as well. Ms. Darbus never tells me my desire to learn the parts or help choreograph or design sets is too intense. Sharpay never worries I might upstage her because we are always playing off each other's energies. I don't know that I would be so confident to climb onstage in sequins and dance the way I want to at home.

It’s Sharpay who convinced our parents to get donors to funnel money into East High’s drastically underfunded drama program. The heft of the school's budget goes into sports, specifically basketball. This has also led Sharpay to consider the head of the drama club (herself) and the basketball team captain (Troy Bolton) the king and queen of East High and a queen deserves the attention of her king.

  
Only, Troy has never liked Sharpay. Since they first met in 7th Grade Sharpay has made her infatuation with him quite apparent and Troy has kept her at arm's length.

  
Sharpay was told no for the time, over and over and over again. She is sure this is her year no way could Troy resist her after the three years of hard work she had been putting into her ideal body and wardrobe. If the basketball brain liked cheerleaders then she would be more than happy to play the part.

  
It doesn’t matter how many times I try to tell her this is a bad idea, or suggest to her things that seem less extreme she is convinced every plan she makes is the best. I should be the one she can lean on when it inevitably fails, not the one telling her she can’t do it.

  
High school hasn’t been the most kind to either of us, but at least most of the things being said to and about me were things I had been hearing for years now. Sharpay was used to being the best, brightest, most beautiful in a room, suddenly she’s being called a brat who needed to learn that drama belongs at the bottom of the social ladder. She doesn’t have very thick skin and it upsets her more than she would ever let on in the hallway.

  
Sharpay is sad, stressed, and taking all of it out on me and while I will never tell her that she cannot vent to me some of it is really starting to get under my skin. I know siblings grow tired of each other and bicker, but I cannot remember a single full fight the two of us may have had with each other. I can feel one building now, bubbling just below our matching smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work in progress and my first work in around 5 years. I thank you so much for reading. I wanted to do a prologue to explore Ryan's relationship with his sister.


	2. The Blog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blog post makes Sharpay spiral

**Ryan POV**

“Hey, Ryan?” Sharpay stands in my doorway, like always having opened my door without knocking.

  
“What’s up?” She doesn’t look like herself, in baggy pajamas and her hair still wet from her shower, she normally puts it into braids because air drying makes it too frizzy. Wait is she crying? Sharpay doesn’t cry, at least not genuinely.

  
I stand up and head over to the door to give her a hug and she buries herself against my shoulder.  
“Shar what is going on with you?”

  
“I’m sorry,” she says without even looking up. We walk over to the bed and I hand her a pillow to take my place in the hug.

  
“Sorry for what? Seriously you have me kinda freaked,” I take a seat cross-legged on the ground in front of her.

  
“I’m sorry for being such a horrible sister,” She uses her middle finger to try and wipe away a tear before it can fall. “I’m sorry that I treat you so terribly. I don’t have any clue why you put up with me” she clutches the pillow against her chest and I just look at her.

  
“Where is this coming fr-'' she juts her phone out at me, it’s got someone's blog it’s hard to read much of anything with Sharpay's hands shaking but the title in all caps reads THE DRAMA BITCH. “How can you be sure this is even about you?”

  
“Unless you know any other twins with a Fabulus plate, named their dog Boi, and has the initials S.E. then this is about me,” she huffs setting her phone down on my bed.

  
“So you get a hater, and your first thought is to come to me to say sorry? Shouldn’t we be toasting to the fact you are living rent-free in this loser's head? How did you even find a rando’s blog post anyway?” despite seeming like the exact type who would search her own name it’s not her m.o.

  
“I was trying to do some research on the mathlete we sometimes see using the gym to practice dance.”

  
“Oh yeah, I didn’t know we had her name yet. Wait, are you saying this is her blog?” I can feel my face getting warm with anger. What right does anyone have to make his sister cry, especially some nerdcore reject?

  
“I don’t know, probably, I can’t be sure. Who wrote it doesn’t matter, what they wrote does.” she hands me the phone to scan the post and I see what has her so upset.

  
“Her brain must be made of the same ice her heart is with her current plan, attending basketball games with signs and entirely too loud cheers for the captain. Suddenly drama divas love sports? Sure. Worst of all she drags her brother with her to cheer and then spy on what the players say after the games. I’ve heard how those jocks talk, seems like she cares more about her social status than her own twin being the victim of a potential hate crime if they catch him. ” I’m not sure why I’m reading out loud but my stomach sinks slightly. Not only is most of this untrue the reminder of what jocks think about people like me was upsetting at best. I set the phone down and run a hand through my hair to try and think of something to say to make Sharpay feel better.

  
“I’m so sorry, Ry, I didn’t think, I should have thought, I didn't know, I’m sorry.” My safety has always been her one true weakness. Sharpay would start a fight if a person so much as looked at me too aggressively. I can’t imagine how much it hurts her to think she may have led me directly into danger.

  
“Okay several things, they clearly do not know you or me, or anything about our dynamic. Name one time you’ve asked me to do something that could get me hurt.”  
“When we were ten and I asked to wear one of my dresses at our birthday party to make Dad mad.”

  
“You thought of that really quick,” I side-eye her and wonder how long ago she found the blog if she was already pulling out memories from grade school, “Now, do remember what I said to that?” she finally sets the pillow down next to her and takes a deep breath.

  
“You said that you would be far too slim for my dresses and that you were offended that I would put you in fuschia when I know you look best in spring tones.” She laughs slightly which is good.

  
“Now can you think of a single thing you have asked me to do that could have gotten me hurt that I didn’t come up with some bullshit excuse to get out of?” I laugh too being totally unsure of if she has ever caught exactly how dumb some of those excuses have been.

  
“No,” I can see the wheels turning in her head.

  
“Exactly, despite the seemingly common belief, I am a big boy capable of making my own decisions. I am glad you worried about me. We both know neither of us are perfect siblings but we always try our best for each other right?” I expect her to look at me and say she is a perfect sibling, to straighten up her shoulders and remember she is Sharpay Evans.

  
“I don’t think I do...I don’t think I do try my best for you. I get so wrapped up in my own head and my own plans. Do you have any friends other than me, do you think you’ll ever get to be truly out, do you know if-”

  
“Sharpay!” I snap her out of the spiral, “I have never seen you act like this, are sure it’s just this article that is bugging you, only this has you the most worked up and introspective you’ve ever gotten?” she isn’t making eye contact with me, instead focusing on pulling a thread out of the pillow now laid across her lap.

  
“What happens when we aren’t a team anymore? What happens if we don't get into the same college? We’ve always been Sharpay and Ryan, the Evans twins.” I can hear tears sneak back into her voice and I answer a little too quickly.

  
“Easy we will call each other every day, you’ll call me from Julliard and I’ll skip intro calc at U of A to take your call.”

  
“You've thought about this before huh?” she finally looks up at me.

  
“Yes, now, do you want me to get ice cream or are you still being a weirdo about sugar because of your grand plan to seduce the basketball boy?”

  
“Ice cream please. You were right my body isn’t the issue. I need to seem more approachable, I want to be nicer. Will you teach me how to be nice?”

  
“Let’s just start with the ice cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I promise stuff not about the twins is coming up hang in there, I just really think a lot of how they act depends on the other so I want to establish what I feel their bond is like. Thank you again for reading see you at the next chapter.


	3. Party Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys pick costumes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chad's POV

“What about one of the doctors from Grey’s Anatomy?” Troy paces the length of my coffee table.

  
“You don’t seriously watch that do you?” for the last seven months my mother has commandeered to watch this prime time soap opera and I don’t think I can handle finding out Troy is such a loser.

  
“No, of course not, but the girls do. I am trying to have fun at this halloween party and being flocked by hotties will definitely help that.” I can only roll my eyes. “What are you gonna be?”

  
“I was thinking Willy Wonka from the new remake,” Troy just shakes his head.

  
“You can’t Ryan is going as him,” he turns on his heel, “Oh! I could go as Simon Cowell.”

  
“Ryan who?”

  
“Ryan Evans, Sharpay told me when she gave me the invite,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

  
“Woah, woah, woah, wait, you agreed to go to a party hosted by the Evans? I’m sorry, are you like, finally falling into Sharpay’s traps or what?” He stops pacing and plops backwards into the big recliner.

  
“She invited the whole team and a bunch of the school. She lives in the private community right outside town so you know her house is huge. Her parents are never home and I have it on good authority there will be alcohol. If you want to skip what will most likely be the biggest party of our highschool careers you can go ahead. I’d like to have fun especially before the season really kicks in.” The microwave beeps and we both bolt toward the kitchen.

  
“Okay,” I start around a blistering hot pizza roll, “star wars, you’re Anakin I’m Obi Wan.”

  
“Ooh that could work, it’s simple enough to pull off on the cheap and plus I’d get to hit you with a lightsaber,” Troy laughs and makes a sszzzchchh noise pretending to swing at me.

I stand onto my chair pointing my own invisible weapon at him, “It’s over Anakin, I have the high ground!”

  
He stands from his own chair and twists his hands to get a better fake grip, “You underestimate my power!”

  
“You boys never change do you?” I hadn’t heard my mom come inside, “Do you think you could pause your game and help me bring in groceries?”

  
“Yes ma’am,” I hop down off the chair and head for the door.

  
Troy is close on my heels barely stifling a laugh, “Yes Mrs. Danforth.”

  
I grab the last bag and string it on my arm, “I have eight, you only have six, I win.”

  
Troy sticks his tongue out at me, “You are the only one who thinks this game is fun.”

  
“That’s just because you always lose,” I laugh as we hobble our way inside.

  
We unload the groceries onto the counter and Troy bolts up to my room, “Come on! We only have a week and we need to make sure you have you need to be Obi.”

  
I will admit it does seem like it will be a pretty sick party, as long as my friends will be there and the monster mash plays at least once I will be fine. I’ll also admit that it’s pretty easy to picture Ryan as Willy Wonka, he’ll probably look better than I would have anyway.

  
Maybe halloween will actually be some fun this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Despite being alive and functioning in 2005 I really forgot how many things came out that year that shaped me as a person. Who knew unnecessarily in-depth research for a fanfiction about a dcom could be so educational.


	4. Panic at the Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halloween party pushes the boys together. Is it serendipity or another one of Sharpay's plots.

Chad’s POV

This plan seemed much more fun before I realized the entire population of Albuquerque is attending this party. Okay, so that’s an exaggeration, but only slightly! The streets leading into the neighbourhood are lined with cars on both sides and I don’t believe even a quarter of them belong to people that actually live out here. The Evans’ home is large, but not nearly the mansion I was expecting to walk up to. The whole pathway is decorated with signs and orange lights hiding in the bushes to look like eyes. I am shocked by how normal it is, the front porch has seemingly hand carved jack o’ lanterns, a couple patio chairs, I was expecting worse.

The inside on the other hand, it’s like a club. Not that I have ever been inside a club, but the ones from movies where you buy designer drugs and meet up with high power mob bosses. What do Sharpay’s parents do for work anyway?

“This is crazy!” Troy yells over the music, some techno dance beat. Maybe I won’t get to hear the classics tonight. That’s okay, at least my friends are here wi…. Troy’s gone already. I can’t see him through the throngs of people so I am assuming he’s already working up some girl. Maybe Zeke and Jason are here somewhere? I try to push my way through the dancing crowd with no luck, the space is just getting tighter. Until I trip and now everyone can quickly jump out of my way, but only for a second. The next song starts and I scoot to the nearest wall to avoid being trampled. 

“Hey,” someone starts from above me, I can barely hear them over the music, “need a hand.” A glove pops in front of my face and I grab it thankfully. The force that yanks me up is surprisingly forceful. Greeting me as I stand is a large circular pair of white sunglasses and a tophat. 

“Are you alright?” the only feature of their face I can see is the lips, persing into a small frown. The cupids bow a definingly pink line against the pale white behind it, noticeable even in the changing hue of lights swirling around us. They part softly to… “Hello?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s just a little crowded. I didn’t expect so many people to be here.” I laugh, I suppose I should have been expecting this but I have never been to anything quite like it. 

_ Oh, well imagine… _

“Hell yes!” They grab my arm and pull me away from the wall. 

“What ar-” 

“You can’t not dance to Panic!” They interrupt.

“Oh I don’t…” but it's not worth trying to finish the sentence. They’re leading me into the mass of bodies. 

I wouldn’t call what I am doing dancing, awkwardly bouncing around. Every so often they reach out and grab my arm jostling me to move a little more or a little more on beat. It’s fun, watching them smile, bouncing around with everyone else.

A few songs pass before they are leading me through the crowd again. Entering a mostly empty kitchen they drop my arm, “Water?”

“Please,” I pant it but I don’t think I’ve really been dancing hard enough for my mouth to be this dry.

They hand me the bottle and in the normal lighting I can finally see the full costume. A long maroon coat, a gold pocket watch chain over a black vest, purple gloves.

“Willy Wonka.” Why am I saying it out loud? Do I think they don't know who they are dressed as?

“A Jedi.” They respond with the same deadpan tone before laughing at me.

“Obi Wan, hard to pull off without the beard.” Explaining it makes it feel so much more nerdy. I could have just let them keep believing I am a generic Jedi.

“Seems like it’d be hard to see out there with those sunglasses.” I laugh and they start to take them off.

“It is extremely hard.” They catch my eyes. The lightest grey eyes I may have ever seen. It’s difficult to tell if they are more blue or green, like the sky before a tornado. “Don’t think my face shape suits the character though, so the glasses really make the costume.”

“I think you have a good face.” What is that?? I didn’t actually say that out loud, there is no way.

“Thank you? You have a...good face too.” They laugh and it clicks for me who I’m talking to. Somehow despite being told exactly what he’d be wearing I’ve been overlooking it this whole time. 

“I need air.” I turn heading for the nearest exit, gratefully there is a patio off the side of the kitchen. 

I just need to regain myself a little bit so I can stop being so weird.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryan’s POV 

“If the house gets destroyed it’s your fault.” I glare at Sharpay pinning the big pink flower into her hair.

“Yes, Ryan, you have said that everyday since I came up with this plan. Can you, perhaps, chill the hell out and just enjoy the party that’s about to start?” she’s smiling in a way that says if I ruin this for her she will kill me. I can’t blame her, she is doing this to try and be nice. She isn’t even planning on trapping Troy in a corner or anything, though it is still to prove something to him.

“One condition,” I hold out my iPod, “That is full, one thousand songs, you have some veto power. Since I didn’t get to plan anything else, you’ll give this to the DJ.” Now it’s her turn to glare at me, but I can see her swallowing whatever protest she wants to make.

“Hhrng, fine.” She yanks the device from my hand.

“Thank you, love you,” she scoffs again, “are you sure about my costume? I don’t look weird?” I spin in front of her.

“Isn’t Willy Wonka supposed to look weird?” She’s teasing, I know it, but I pout anyway. “You look great Ry. Just don’t take the hat off, I won’t claim you as my sibling with that middle part.”

People file in and music starts playing and I join in on dancing. After the first twenty or so people show up I give up on counting. I can’t put it past Sharpay to have invited the entire southwest so I can save myself the anxiety by not focusing on the number. 

The music is starting to get really good and I can’t possibly give up the chance to dance. I’m just getting really into it when I see some dude topple to the ground. I start pushing my way towards where he fell and he is scooting across the ground like a scared puppy. I catch him up and the wall and stick out my hand to help him up.

“Hey,” He grabs it and I pull him up to his feet but judging by how he is staring at me I may have pulled a little too hard. I can’t see too well through my sunglasses so his eyes must be really wide if I can see them. “Are you alright?”

He seems to be staring at my mouth, I can have anything on it I haven’t eaten since getting dressed. So what has him so intently looking at my lips. “Hello?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s just a little crowded. I didn’t expect so many people to be here.” He laughs and glances around the packed room. 

_ Oh, well imagine… _

“Hell yes!” I grab his arm and start pulling him onto the floor.

“What ar-” 

“You can’t not dance to Panic!” I cut him off, I mean I practically just saved his life, he can repay me by dancing with me.

“Oh I don’t…” he trails off. I don’t want to know how he was going to finish the sentence anyway, I am going to have fun tonight.

We are having fun, though his dancing is more swaying without moving his feet. I start reaching out during songs to try and get him to match my energy but it isn’t quite working.

After a few songs I think I may drop, I grab his arm again and we head through the crowd to the kitchen. Now that we are in the kitchen I realize I could have left him on the dancefloor instead of holding him hostage. I drop his arm and go to the fridge, “Water?”

“Please,” at least he seems like he’s also thirsty so I can’t feel as bad. Just practicing dance safety.

I hand him the bottle and he gives me the up and down.

“Willy Wonka.” He isn’t confirming that’s the correct answer, just telling me who I am?

“A Jedi.” I say back in the same tone.

“Obi Wan, hard to pull off without the beard.” I have an easy time getting that, fake beards are itchy and real beards are hard to grow.

“Seems like it’d be hard to see out there with those sunglasses.” I take them off because he’s right.

“It is extremely hard.” He catches my eyes. Now that I can see him clearly I realize that I’ve been dragging around Troy’s right hand man all night. He looks like he isn’t breathing.“Don’t think my face shape suits the character though, so the glasses really make the costume.”

“I think you have a good face.” That gets me, I think I know what he’s trying to say.

“Thank you? You have a...good face too.” I laugh. He looks really nervous.

“I need air.” He runs out the patio door. Should I be following him? I am nervous that this was all some set up. What are the chances that at a party this big I would just happen to run into the one person that could keep my sister’s claws out of Troy.

Clearly something is going on and I intend on finding out what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know if the time jump or pov jumps are confusing. I am writing in a different style than I used to and would love any and all feedback.


	5. The Backyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan shows Chad a secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied previous homophobia.

My plan was to wait in the kitchen for Chad to come back in and explain to me what is happening. There is probably a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. The longer I spend standing here though the easier it is for me to convince myself that my thoughts are correct. After about 15 minutes with no reappearance I decided I am not going to follow that plan.

  
“What is going on right-” He whips his head around as I stomp outside, he’s got tears in his eyes. “Woah hey, are you alright?”

  
He just nods. I can tell he’s lying, but what right to have to call him on it. He isn't even sitting in the chairs. I plop down next to him on the concrete. He keeps his head down and scoots so his knee is just barely brushing mine. 

  
“Here's three options. I can leave you out here alone again until you're ready to go back in, we can go back in now and pretend nothing happened, or I can show you the spot towards the end of the lawn where you can’t hear the music anymore. You just have to let me know what you wanna do.” We sit there for a while with neither of us saying anything. I don't know if it's the unanswered question or the general awkwardness of the boy sitting next to me but the feeling in the air is heavy and it settles around me the same way the air in a store dressing room does. That feeling that you are somehow in the wrong place even though it is the only option for what you are doing.

  
“Your lawn is big enough for us to not hear all that?” He gestures vaguely at the house.

  
“Yep.” I pop back up and stick my hand out to help him up again, “it’s kind of my secret though, so you can only come if you promise not to tell Sharpay.” I can see the smallest of smiles hit his face.

  
“Deal,” he grabs my hand and this time I let him pull himself up. I expect him to drop the hand once he is up but he doesn’t. We walk for a couple of minutes a little more slowly than is necessary before nearing the edge of the lawn.

  
“It’s not much but it’s quiet,” I admit, gesturing towards the tray table and two camping chairs set under the tree that acts as our property line. I grab the small electric lantern I keep under one of the chairs and flick it on.

  
“Thank you,” he sighs, giving my hand a squeeze before dropping it. I just nod back, trying to pretend I’m not a little disappointed. Chad sits down and I take the other chair.

  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I'm trying not to push him but I also don’t want anyone having a shitty time tonight and he seems like he probably is.

  
“Yeah, I’m sorry dude. Running out like that wasn’t cool, you didn’t do anything,” he focusses on picking at the skin around his nails as he speaks, I place my hand over his. It's just to save his cuticles and not at all because I felt anything when he was holding my hand for most of tonight. "I just don't think I really prepared myself for such a big party."

  
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have pulled you out to dance. You’ve had a rough start to the night.” I run my thumb absentmindedly across his hand.

  
“Are you kidding? The dancing was the most fun I may have ever had at a party, and I do not dance.” he puts his other hand on top of mine. “No matter what else happens tonight at least I can say I got to spend some time with a hottie.” A grin spreads across his face just a little too big and a little to goofy and I am reeling.

  
“I’m sorry?” I’m trying my best to sound collected but I am jello. “A hottie? Is it 1995?” We are both laughing now and I gratefully can feel some of the awkward energy melt away.

We sit here like this for who knows how long, hands locked together, looking out into the night. It's nice, unlike the silence before. There is nothing demanding our immediate attention. The lantern allows me to see the shapes and shadows of his face, the soft slope of his nose, his strong jaw, his prominent cheekbones. He's a well-built man and I'm sure I am far from the first or last person to notice it. He turns towards me, probably feeling me staring.

"Hello there," I can't tell what sort of tone he is using. It sounds a little flirtatious but I am positive that can't be the case.

  
"General Kenobi," it's not a good Grievous impression but it makes him laugh and that's what matters.

  
"I mean no offense by this," I prepare myself to feel offended, "but, I'm a little surprised that you watch StarWars."

  
I can't help but make a face, "who hasn't seen at least some StarWars?"

  
"I would say everyone has seen some, but you just quoted a film that has only been out for 5 months to me. So I am willing to bet you have seen them all."

  
"What an observation. Yes, I have. Does this mean I get to say I'm surprised you recognized this version of Willy Wonka?"

  
"Troy actually had to stop me from coming in a matching outfit. I'm glad I didn't though, I knew you'd look better than me." I can't tell if he's blushing but I sure am.

  
"Well, thank you." I look back up at the sky.

  
"Tell me about this spot." His voice sounds calm, like a child asking for their favourite bedtime story.

  
"The long story or the short version?" He curls in his lips as he thinks.

  
"The version that makes you most comfortable to tell." I truthfully can't say if I've ever gotten that response before.

  
"Sharpay didn't want a treehouse, so we didn't get a treehouse. I wanted somewhere that I could go if I needed to get away from her for a little bit. So sometime in the third or fourth grade I stole extra camping chairs and this table from the attic. We never go camping anyway. You can't see this spot from any of the windows because of the slope of the lawn and the landscaper is the only person who ever comes to the end of the property. It's a good place to be alone, to get away if you can't actually go anywhere.

  
"If this is your alone spot then why haul two chairs out?" He looks genuinely confused and I am really not up to telling him that I always thought I would show a friend this spot someday.

  
"I was in third grade, do you any more questions?" I try to laugh as I say it but I think he can tell it's a lie.

  
His eyes widen a little bit like he's thinking of something very important. "Why were you yelling when you came outside?"

  
I blush a little, "I wasn't yelling." Deflecting isn't going to work twice in a row but I can try.

  
"So then what would you call that?" He looks up and we lock eyes.

  
"I uh, it," I look down at the ground to try and regain my composure. His eyes are so deep here in the dark, "you're gonna laugh at me. It's really dumb."

  
"Maybe," He shrugs. "You won't find out for sure until you tell me."

  
"I thought you were working _with_ Sharpay," his laugh sounds more a bark, short and loud. "See? I told you it was dumb."

  
"I swear that I am not laughing at you. Just the thought of me working /with/ Sharpay. Come on, dude. So, what sort of evil scheme did you think I was in on?" He gets that stupid grin again, it's like truth serum.

  
"She swears that she is throwing this whole party just to be nice, but like, this is what she does." I look back into his eyes and he seems a little lost, "It's hard to keep up with what she is doing for personal gain and what she thinks is kindness because she still believes being kind is just a tool to getting what you want." I didn't realize I was as frustrated about this as I am, I don't mean to be trash-talking her. "I just wish she could show others the good parts of herself."

  
"You think I helped her...plan this party?" It hits me that I wasn't answering the question.

  
"No, I thought she did this to get to Troy and she had you distract me." It sounds so dumb saying it out loud. 

  
"Why do you care so much if she gets with him?" I open my mouth but nothing comes out, I don't know why. Because it's wrong, because he's basketball and we are drama and those two clicks don't like each other, because I liked him first and why should she get him if I couldn't, because they would be a terrible couple, because in eighth grade he called me a faggot and I don't believe he's matured at all.

  
"Do you like Troy?" He pulls his hand off mine.

  
"What? No, of course not." I bite my tongue before finishing with _he's a dumb jock_.

  
"Do you hate him?" he isn't asking it with an angry tone but fear floods me anyway. It hadn't fully hit that I am out here, in the dark, alone, with a boy who could very easily hurt me if he wanted to. He's being nice but the panic gripping my chest isn't going away. The thought that he is just another lunkhead sports player watching for me to make one wrong move isnt going away.

  
"I-I want...t-to go back to the house. You can stay here if you want," I start to run, the slope of the lawn works against me. He catches up to me about half way to the house and slides in front of me,

"Listen I'm sorry, please just." I hold up my hands close to my chest, palms out towards him. It's reflex.

  
He puts his up too, like he is showing that isn't starting a fight, "Hey, I'm sorry okay. I shouldn't have pressed you like that. Do you want me to go home so you can enjoy the rest of your night?" I lower my hands back to my side only once I see him doing the same.

  
Leave? "No! I don't want you to leave I just...not every sportsboy at a party has been as nice to me as you are being right now." Oh my god, I just want to calm down, not be that kid sharing their trauma at the party.

  
"How about to make we just go back inside. We can get a drink, dance some more." I just need to calm down. Chad isn't Troy. 

  
"Okay. I won't press you about it anymore, promise." I stick my pinky out mostly as a joke and he wraps his around. "See? Now if I mess up you get to break my pinky, I should be one afraid."  
I straighten up to finish walking to the house, trying my best to appear confident about what just happened "What kind of drink do you want?"

  
"Surprise me." I do love a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. After not having internet and having to type this whole chapter in note pad I am glad to finally get it up. Five chapters in and the boys are finally bonding!


	6. A Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan got Chad a belated Christmas gift.

_Hey I know you won’t get this for another few days but I hope_ _you have a safe flight :)_

I’ve been talking to Ryan a lot since the halloween party, turns out he isn’t nearly as nasty as his sister. He travels for the holidays so contact has stopped because of lack of cell service but I want to have a nice message to come back to.

I should send something similar to Troy to wish him a safe drive back from the ski lodge but I don't think I am quiet up to hearing about his conquests today.

Zeke and Jason are practically the only other people who stay in town for winter break, but at least that means I got to kick ass at Mario Kart. It only gets a little chilly so I’ve been able to work on free throws, but all in all I am bored.

I am, though I will deny it if asked, excited for school to start again. I miss my friends and basketball practice. 

_Thank you! I actually flew back early to get a real_

_vacation of being alone for a day or two :D_

Oh. I shouldn’t care one way or the other. There’s no obligation for him to tell me that he’s back. I can’t help wondering how long he’s been back though, it stings a little to think he didn’t let me know.

_Cool._

_I have a gift for you actually._

_A gift?_

_Yeah. I can drop it off if you want._

_Yeah sure. I didn’t get you anything though._

_No worries, I’ll be there in a few._

Ryan got me a gift? Ryan got me a gift. Why would he have gotten me a gift? Should I have gotten him a gift? I should have, huh? I would say we are friends, friends get friends gifts. Why didn’t I think to get him a gift?

The knock on the door pulls me out of my own head.

“That was quick,” I say, opening the door to Ryan holding a wrapped box.

“Not much traffic, turns twenty minutes in ten,” he hands me the box and we stand there awkwardly for a moment.

“Do you want to come in?” I step out of the doorway to make room for him to come through.

“Oh, uh, sure, am I okay parked on the street?” He looks out at his car.

“Yeah, totally, even if not we can see it from my window.” I point towards the wide window in the living room. It’s only view is the street.

“Okay.” he nods and steps into the entryway, “but only because I want to see you open it.”

We sit in the living room, Ryan right on the edge of the couch and me in the recliner.

His smile makes me feel more at ease, he seems excited. I start pulling off the wrapping paper and know immediately by the box,“A basketball?” 

“Yeah, I know you carry one, like, everywhere and it looks so old and grey. Now you have one that you can be sure won’t pop when you bounce it.” He looks embarrassed, or maybe worried that he insulted my ball.

“Thank you.” I don’t think I could have picked something out for him that would be as fitting. “Really.”

He smiles like a little kid, clearly proud of himself.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I say realizing I didn’t offer him anything when he first came in, and now I definitely owe him something “I make a killer cocoa.”

“That sounds amazing actually.” He pops up off the couch and I lead the way into the kitchen.

“Before I start you need to know this is the only thing I can cook that isn’t microwaved so I take it very seriously.” Ryan nods, clearly trying to look serious over his smile.

“First thing, real milk,” I walk him through each step, he stands next to me watching intently. I can’t tell if he really cares or if he’s just humouring me. When I turn to make sure he understands the reason for the coffee he looks like he is blushing. It must just be from being so close to the heat of the stove.

Pouring the steaming liquid carefully into cups I make sure it's high enough to add some bubbles but not high enough to splash onto either of us.

“Do you like peppermint?” he looks at me quizzically then nods.

“As long as it is sweet, if it’s too spicy I don’t” something about that answer is so adorably Ryan, but I can’t analyze it too long or the cocoa will get cold. I reach into the cabinet above me and pull out two intact candy canes, carefully unwrapping each to not break the hook.

“This is what really makes it,” placing one in each mug and finishing off with exactly six mini marshmallows.

Ryan picks his mug up with both hands bringing it carefully to his lips. “You didn’t lie, this really is killer.”

“Are you saying that because it definitely burned your tongue and killed your singing career?” He laughs, careful not to jostle the cup. His laugh is soft and short, like it snuck out of him before he could stop it.

I smile and we head back to the living room, this time taking seats on opposite ends of the couch. Ryan sinks back into this time instead of hovering on edge and we angle to face each other. 

“I hear you guys have a big game after we get back,” he takes another small sip of cocoa.

“Yeah East versus West. Everyone loves hometown rivalry.” I refrain from talking too much about it. He can’t be actually interested, polite small talk most likely.

“So much happens in second semester. The musical, basketball, scholastic decathlon…” 

“You really know a lot about the school, huh? I didn’t know half of that stuff was happening.” I interrupt, it’s cool that he knows so much.

“I’m always trying to recruit so I have to know when everything is in order to coax people into joining the club, auditioning, attending practice and meetings. Unfortunately drama isn’t as...popular as basketball.” His brow furrows as he talks about it and he sets down his drink to talk with his hands.

“That sounds really stressful,” he looks at me with big eyes. I worry that maybe that isn’t the right thing to say.

“I, I’m sure that basketball is super stressful too. It must feel like the whole school rides on your shoulders.” He leans forward to place a hand on my arm, similar to way someone may give condolences for a loss.

“I suppose, but not nearly in the same way. You can keep venting if you want to. I really don’t mind.” I worry that maybe I have given him the impression that I don’t care about the things he likes.

“Thank you. I don’t mean to talk about it so much though. I do have other interesting things in my life.” He picks his mug back up, this time blowing on the top before taking a sip. It’s always sips, like he’s trying to stretch it out.

“I get it, I cut myself off from basketball talk to. I don’t want to bore you.” I rub the back of my neck feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I promise you wouldn’t bore me. I honestly like sports.” I shouldn’t be surprised by that. I’ve seen him at games, I sort of just assumed that was because his sister is crushing on Troy.

“Oh, I guess I should have just asked.” He rolls his eyes at me. 

“It’s cool, we are all guilty of stereotyping.” He smirks and shakes his head.

“Are we? What did you stereotype me as.” I’m laughing but see his cheeks blush slightly and he stares down into his drink.

“I’m gonna sound so dumb.” He says it almost in a huff, or maybe it’s a laugh? 

“No one to sound dumb for here except me.” Somehow in this moment, it hits me that we are completely alone in the house. My parents are both at work. That doesn’t matter though right? I’ve had Troy over alone a million times. So why should this feel any different?

"Fine. I pegged you as a dumb jock. Mean, boring, not too bright." He scowls like his stereotype is harsh. It isn't surprising to me though. I know how I used to think about drama geeks, how some of the guys still treat the nerdy kids. Plus, if my grades are anything to go by, I’m not too bright. 

"If I'm mean then give me back that cocoa." I stick my hand out making a grabbing motion.

"No." He whines and holds the mug against his chest. "I clearly don't think that way anymore."

"I'm more hurt that you left out the best part of the dumb jock stereotype." I fake pout at him.

"And what's that?" He is being sarcastic but I can’t lose this opportunity to make him fully blush.

"Hot.” It’s a small reaction at first, his cheeks getting even pinker.

"Hot," he scrunches his face like he's holding in a laugh or genuinely biting his tongue to stop from saying something.

"What am I not hot?" I pout again and he rolls eyes even harder. 

"Not all jocks are hot.” I catch that he didn’t answer my question. He has given me a golden opportunity.

“Sure neither are all dancers.” This is what gets him, his whole face turns pink and he lets out a signature Evans huff. 

Once the blush fades and we are both almost done with our now cold hot chocolate Ryan remembers to glance out at his car.

“Oh! It’s dark outside already.” He looks down at his watch then back up to me, “Time really flies when you’re having fun, It’s after six.”

I double-check the time on the wall clock, could that much time really have passed already? He’s right.

“I should probably head home, thank you so much for the cocoa. I’ll see at school in a few days, yeah?” He stands up and starts to move for the door.

“Yeah absolutely.” I rush over to open the door for him. “It’s a little chilly out, you may want to let your heat run for a sec before you head out.”

“Thanks, see you later.” Ryan hugs me, not a quick side hug. His arms are fully wrapped around my chest. I drop my arm from the door and return the hug around his shoulders and squeeze gently. It probably doesn’t last as long as I think, and truthfully I’m a little sad that it’s ended.

He trots out to his car and I just wave at him, waiting to close the door until he is safely inside his car.

I take my seat back on the couch where I can see his car out through the window, trying my best not to stare, just making sure he gets going alright. He hasn’t pulled away yet, must be running the heat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I really was putting off so that I didn't have to start the next chapter. As penance, I am giving you Chad's hot cocoa recipe.  
> In a saucepan put your choice of milk (it can be any milk but it cannot be water)  
> turn stove to medium-low to heat milk  
> once the milk is hot to the touch (you can also use a thermometer if you are being careful it should be about 90F or 32c) add-in semisweet or dark chocolate chips turn heat up to medium.  
> STIR CONSTANTLY- you do not want the milk to scorch or the chocolate to stick to the bottom and burn.  
> add 2 tbs or 28ml of brewed coffee (if you cannot have caffeine then deaf will work or you can sub in 1tsp or 5ml of vanilla extract)  
> continue stirring until all the chocolate is melted and the milk starts to bubble but is not quite boiling.  
> Aerate into the mug(s) you can do this by pouring from a little higher or by pouring it from cup to cup a couple of times.  
> Top with six (6) mini marshmallows or topping of choice.  
> Add candy cane for stirring (optional but I promise this will change how you consume hot chocolate.)  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> As always thank you so much for reading


	7. First Day Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day at school after winter break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may find it beneficial to rewatch the first HSM movie as these next few chapters will be shorts that are happening during or between scenes.

**Ryan pov**

The semester starts how almost every other semester has started, people standing in front of the school waiting to meet their groups. Cheerleaders on one end, jocks clogging the front door. I cannot say that I have been missing East High.

Sharpay pushes her way through the crowd with me tailing closely behind. I would honestly just like to get to homeroom. After a quick stop at Sharpay’s pink locker, we make it to class and the presence of Ms. Darbus already makes me feel a little better about being back.

I don’t really look around or pay attention to others' conversations, I don’t have any friends here anyway. Well, any public friends. I can’t stop myself from shooting a glance at Chad and he has the basketball I gave him instead of his old one. I look back down at my desk, that's all I wanted to know.

The people around me talk about their vacations or gifts or…

“...all I remember is, like, pink jelly.”

...or whatever that conversation could be.

“I trust you all had a splendid holiday,” Ms. Darbus starts and I pop my head back up to look like I’m paying real attention. Normally I would be paying full attention, but I haven’t paid full attention to much in the last few days.

Then a phone rings. 

I know that’s not my ringtone but it gives me an excuse to check my messages anyway. Nothing, not surprising.

Ms. Darbus starts dropping cellphones into her bucket. I roll my eyes a little as she tells me and Sharpay we each have fifteen minutes of detention. She just does it to prove a point, it’s not enough time for anyone else to actually help with sets, and Sharpay and I stay after school every day. We won’t be changing that three years in.

“We have zero tolerance for cell phones in class, so we will get to know each other in detention. Cell phone, and welcome to East High, Miss Montez.” I whip my head behind me. How had I not noticed a new kid walk past me? I tap Sharpay's shoulder to make sure she sees too and receive a nod. We’ll do our research later.

“Mr, Bolton, I see your phone is involved, so we will see you in detention as well.” Troy drops his phone in the bucket and Chad starts to pipe up.

“That's not a possibility, Miss Darbus, Your Honor, see, 'cause we have basketball practice and Troy…” Bad move.

“Ah, that will be 15 minutes for you too, Mr, Danforth, Count 'em.” At least “detention” will be entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Sorry for taking so long to upload but I really stressed about cannon to keep all of this. Hopefully, the next few chapters come out rather quickly as they will be mostly flashes and rather short.


	8. Getcha Head In The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After homeroom and in Gym class

**Chad pov**

Detention, Troy and I both managed to get detention on the first day back. When we have close to no time to practice. If it had just been me maybe the team would be okay. But Troy is team captain, the… the team will be just fine because they'll have Coach. Coach, however, will not be fine. I would rather not have to do laps or baskets until I puke because of trying to defend Troy. 

* _Riiiiiiiiiiiing*_

Oh, thank God I can get out of this classroom. 

“Sorry, man, See you in detention,” I pat Troy’s shoulder on my way to the door.

“See you later, It's all good,” He isn’t looking at me though. He’s staring at that new girl, not a shock. She’s pretty and Troy has eyes for anyone remotely feminine.

I see Ryan in the hallway and go towards him to thank him again for the basketball, but once I catch up to him I see he’s tailing Sharpay and I have no interest in talking to her right now. 

_Hey, man. Thanks again for the basketball_

Hopefully, he’ll see the text before he gets to his next class so that he doesn’t get his phone taken again.

“Hey, dude!” I run straight into Zeke while still staring at my phone.

“Oh man, I am so sorry.” I drop my cell into my pocket.

“Is that a new basketball? It doesn’t look near as raggedy.” He picks it up out of my hands.

“Oh yeah R- Uh I got it for Christmas,” He tosses it back.

“Oh cool! Hope it holds as much luck as your old one because if we lose this game I will not hesitate to blame the ball,” he laughs before turning to head to his own class.

“Yeah, yeah, see you at practice,” I pull my phone out to check for a reply but still nothing.

I need to go to class anyway.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The basketball team all has the same gym period as a way to get extra practice in. I am grateful for it today. It'll make missing some of the afterschool practice less painful. 

“Dude, you know that school musical thing, did you know you get extra credit for just auditioning?” He blurts it out, less like a conversation starter and more like a secret he just can’t keep.

“Who cares?” I can’t imagine anyone benefits from audition credit.

He goes on about extra credit could help him get into college and how I don’t know if Shaq auditioned for his school musical. Just thinking about Shaq in tights makes me shiver.

“Troy,” He really isn’t backing down from this idea and I know superstar Troy Bolton doesn’t need extra credit to get into U of A basketball. 

“The music in those shows isn't hip-hop, or rock, or anything essential to culture. It's, like, show music. It's all costumes and makeup.” Great now I am picturing Troy in tights, “Oh, dude, it's frightening.”

“I know, I thought it'd be a good laugh,” sure, I totally believe that. He is clearly going through something if this is how he is thinking. 

“Sharpay's kinda cute, too.” Absolutely not, no, he’s officially lost his mind.

“So is a mountain lion, but you don't pet it,” Hell even a mountain lion is nicer than she is. I look at him to make sure he understands but he is completely gone inside his own head. Probably picturing a whole musical number that proves Basketball and Theatre can coexist. Or he also pictured Shaq in tights and needs to recover.

“Alright Wildcats partner up!” Finally, practice can start.

I don’t want to think about any musical if I don't have to and while preparing for the biggest game of the year should definitely be one of those times I don’t have to, but now he’s in my head about it. I cannot risk losing our captain to drama. I’m gonna have to keep an eye on it so I can nip it in the bud before it becomes an issue.

Practice ends and I head to shower. Getting dressed I pull my phone out again and see I finally have a reply from Ryan.

_Ur welcome again :) sorry for the late response I’ve wrapped up in drama prep all day. Painting sets isn’t just for detention haha._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I always forget exactly how rude Chad is about theatre.


	9. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Sharpay research Gabriella and go to detention.

Ryan POV

I stand by the wildcat statue and eye the seemingly new couple, something tells me troy isn’t showing her around to just be nice but I can’t really place his motive. Sure this new girl is pretty, but she is nowhere close to what he normally goes after. Sharpay flits by and I grab her wrist.

“Troy Bolton was looking at our audition list,” she seems just as confused as I do.

“Again?” I raise my eyebrow, he was looking at it before?

“Yeah, he was hanging around with that new girl and they were both looking at the list,” who is this chick anyway? How does she know Troy Bolton, and what about her suddenly has him interested in theatre? I’m staring past the list, trying to form theories in my head.

“There's something freaky about her, where did she say she's from?” Clearly a rhetorical question Sharpay starts to clack away. Research time is upon us.

The computer lab attached to the library is almost always empty and Ms. Darbus so graciously let us know the spelling of her full name; Gabriella Montez.

Putting her name into google brings up some relevant articles, a couple links down one titled _"Gabriella" San Diego Zoo's new chimp_ catches my eye but Sharpay clicks on the first link which is titled, _Whiz Kid Leads School to Scholastic Championship._

“Wow! An Einsteinette, so why do you think she's interested in our musical?” The article is pretty impressive, calling this girl an inspiration because of her skill in Chemistry. I don’t know if that would inspire me but good for her.

“I'm not sure that she is, and we needn't concern ourselves with amateurs. But…” She hits print of the first article, “there is no harm in making certain that Gabriella's welcome to school activities that are...well, appropriate for her,” and print on the second article. “After all she loves pi.” I don't even look away from the computer to acknowledge that pun. I don’t if I’d address that or fact that the two of us are still technically amateurs.

“I’ll see you later in detention,” I don’t care what Sharpay is going to do with those articles. I only stuck around for this part because I am nosy.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I won’t say I like how Darbus uses drama as a punishment but given how the department has approximately three active students it’s fairly necessary. 

Sharpay is getting her wardrobe fitted which is mostly unnecessary since we usually make our own costumes. I am mostly pretending to paint a ladder, I would normally put more heart into it but the first day back is always tiring. 

I am eavesdropping on conversations around me to avoid hearing Darbus lecture about cell phones. Taylor runs up to Gabriella ecstatic that she had left all these articles in her locker, which Gabriella of course denies. Sharpay trots over and smiles at me through the rungs of the ladder before heading in their direction. She can be a genius when she puts her mind to it. Gabriella is insistent that she doesn’t want to join any clubs though, which I am on her side about. It has to suck to transfer schools in the middle of a year but to feel like you have to choose a clique right away is way too stressful. On the other hand though maybe finding a group of people that share similar interests may be good, may ease some of the new school anxiety. Who am I to say.

I tune out and leave Sharpay to weave her web and I start thinking about choreography for the show, assessing what sets we have left to complete, trying to get Kelsi to understand that Sharpay will get her songs arranged into her key if it kills her and I’ll agree to that key if it kills me. I feel like I am taking on more than my fair share this year, but I am happy to have something to put my focus into. You can’t spend too much time in your own head if you are always busy.

Honestly we probably shouldn’t have agreed to do an original student play. Not that Kelsi isn’t good at writing but Shakespear is dead and can’t get his feelings hurt by diva demands. It feels almost unfair to her to have this be her start.

Scanning around to see who showed up I see Troy sitting in the huge tree stapling in leaves, sitting is a generous way to put it. It’s more like he’s laying in the tree like he’s waiting for someone to paint him in the style of a greek god. I can see chads back through the tree opening and he seems totally unmoving like maybe he fell asleep. Not that I have been looking at him for long enough to tell or anything.

“Where's my team, Darbus?” Three years I have been in this school and the feud between Ms. Darbus and Coach Bolton never gets old. Seeing him throw a tantrum and her try to condescend him out of his anger is honestly a highlight of my days.

“What the heck are those two doing in a tree?” He’s gonna pop a blood vessel if he doesn't chill a little bit.

“It's called crime and punishment, Bolton. Besides, proximity to the arts is cleansing for the soul.” Cleansing? I watched her almost snap her glasses in half trying to figure out a play last semester.

“Can we have a talk, please?” and Bolton is gonna tattle to the principal that his perfect basketball robots got in trouble. I am sure the principal will take his side too, like always.

“And you two, in the gym, now!” Troy hops down from the tree and yanks Chad out and off the stage. I almost feel bad that he seems so afraid of his dad, but I get it, I flinch when he yells like that too. 

I wish we could hire someone to do the sets for us so that I could go home and take a nap, but while the donors are incredibly generous they aren’t miracle workers. If we want decent costumes and micing, we have to sacrifice somewhere. Even if that somewhere is the total sum of our free time.

After about 40 minutes I decide to take a break.

_Sry u got detention hope bolton cut u some slack_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'll be breaking away from the script soon and skipping scenes so I will try my best to keep you posted on the timeline but it may help to rewatch the first movie if you can to add some context.


	10. Call back?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has the whole world lost their minds or is it just the people Chad knows?

Chad POV

_ Sry u got detention hope bolton cut u some slack _

I see the message on the way home but I don’t respond, Bolton did not cut us any slack and I don’t think I have the energy to even eat dinner, much less respond to a text.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up still sore. At least today has to be better because I know better than to speak to Darbus

I catch Troy in the hall between classes, “What's up, man?”

“What's up?” He seems antsy, I hope Coach didn’t give him too much flack after we left.

“The team's hitting the gym during free period, What should we run?” He looks at me with wide eyes.

“ Oh, I can't make it, I...gotta catch up on some homework,” Ummm.

“What? Hello, it's only the second day back. I'm not even behind on homework yet, and I've

been behind on homework since preschool,” I laugh but he doesn’t, he looks around but not really at me.

“That's hilarious, I'll catch you later,” he stops me with his arm, like a mom hitting the brakes too hard, and then runs away down the hall.

Homework? There's no way. I can’t tell if I'm thinking in my head or out loud. I am honestly just confused. Where would he run too and why is more important than being there for his team?

I manage to track him for a couple of classrooms before giving up and heading to practice. If troy is going to flake on us the least I can do is step up to lead the team.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, yesterday didn’t turn out how I expected. I am hopeful about today though. Walking through the doors I hear Sharpay screeching right away, finally a sign that things are back to normal.

“What’s wrong?” I laugh then look at the board in front of me, “what?”

_ Callback for roles Arnold and Minnie next Thursday, 3:30 pm, _

_ Ryan and Sharpay Evans, _

_ Gabriella Montez and Troy Bolton _

I glare at Ryan but I don’t really mean to. It’s just, he had to have known right? Known that Troy auditioned?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This lunchroom is chaos. People are just blurting out their secrets. Stoners and mathletes keep coming up to the table trying to talk to me. All because Troy Man Of Tights decided to throw a wrench in the whole highschool dynamic. For what exactly, some girl? I knew he was a bit of a player but I never thought he’d throw his team and his future together to prance around on stage with a loser. Is this what he really wants, he wants the drama geeks to think they can talk to us? 

I miss Gabriella dumping her chili cheese fries on Sharpay's chest. Normally just her scream would be funny enough to pull me out of my spiral but not right now. Right now I am seething.

“What's up?” Troy says so innocently like he is completely unaware he’s done anything wrong

“What's up?” I almost spit the words at him, "Oh, let's see...You missed free-period workout to audition for a heinous musical and now suddenly people are confessing. Zeke, Zeke is baking... creme brulee.” I yank Zeke's shirt and he still just seems so pleased about himself. I don't want to know the world's secrets and I’m especially tired of finding out my friends are different from who they seemed to be for the last three years.

“What's that?” What does he mean? Why does he care, what it is doesn't matter at all right now

“Oh,” I’m gonna knock Troy on his ass, “custard” How could he pull off this right now? “caramelized surface,” Who even is he right now “It's really satisfying.”

“Shut up, Zeke!” I wanna slap his stupid fucking custard to the ground. “Look... do you see what's happening here, man? Our team is coming apart because of your singing thing,” It’s true if other cliques can intermingle with us then we aren't a cohesive unit anymore. Maybe we never were with all these secrets. “Suddenly people think that they can do other stuff, stuff that's not their stuff.” I do realize how dumb I sound, but I am genuinely hurt. I’ve never hidden who I am from the team. I thought that’s what friendship is. “You're thinking about show tunes  when we've got a playoff game next week,” Troy seems sad but I can’t just stop being angry, I thought I knew what he cared about. I thought I knew him as well as I know myself. 

If he doesn’t actually care about basketball what else or who else does he also not really care about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Heads up for a bit of angst coming in the next few chapters. Nothing too heavy I promise.


	11. Status Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stick to the stuff you know

Ryan POV

I spend the first twenty-four hours checking my phone non-stop. Eventually, though, I just give up. 

I try to tell myself he’s just busy, that it isn’t personal. I know better though, it was fun while it lasted, but it was bound to come to an end. Chad and I are in totally different stratospheres in this school. I should stick to the stuff I know.

Then I see the call back sheet.

_ Callback for roles Arnold and Minnie next Thursday, 3:30pm, _

_ Ryan and Sharpay Evans, _

_ Gabriella Montez and Troy Bolton _

I read it outloud but it still doesn’t make any sense. 

“Is this some kind of joke? They didn't even audition!” Sharpay is screaming but I can barely register her.

“Maybe we're being punked?” It’s the only thing that makes sense in this moment, “Maybe we're being filmed right now, maybe we'll get to meet Ashton!” It seems more possible than Troy Bolton auditioning and getting a callback.

“Oh, shut up, Ryan!” She shakes my hand off her arm.

“What's wrong?” Chad pops in between us, chest pressed against my back. “What?”

I freeze, lock my eyes forward and shallow my breath. I’m not afraid of Chad but in this moment, surrounded by other jocks, all it would take is one wrong move. 

He turns and glares at me, I look back so quickly I don’t really see him but I can feel the anger in his eyes, then he runs off.

Then Sharpay storms away. 

And I stay totally still in front of the list, not daring to even breathe until everyone else has dispersed. Until it feels safe to move again.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharpay huffs as she paces the balcony where our lunch table sits.

“How dare she sign up! I already picked out the colors for my dressing room,” she is seething. 

“Plus, she hasn't even asked our permission to join the drama club,” I’ve spent my whole highschool trying to build and recruit for this club and for what? For people that make fun of us constantly to suddenly decide they care.

Below us chaos seems to have erupted, people are just blurting out their secrets.

Kelsi looks at me from across the table and I can actually laugh for a moment, we know better than to go around telling deep dark secrets in here. I do not understand.

Then Sharpay runs straight into the chaos, in a blink I’ve followed her down the stairs and that freaky genius girl has dumped chili cheese fries on to her chest.

I’m not sure she did it on purpose, but Sharpay is. 

She whines to Darbus but I am gone, mentally, I am done for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to start diverging a bit from the canon of the first movie from here on out.  
> Thank you again so much for reading!


	12. The Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you have to hurt the people you love for their own good, right?

Chad POV

Cornering Troy in the library didn’t work. I thought for sure telling him about my mom keeping Michael Crawford’s picture inside of our refrigerator. He didn’t listen to any of it, he isn’t acting like himself.

So the boys and I are getting together today to approach Taylor and the scholastic team. If we can get Troy to remember who he is then we can fix all of this, hopefully, it will knock some sense into Gabriella as well. I haven’t seen that much of her but she seems like a sweet girl, Troy doesn’t tend to go for sweet, it’s better they both get hurt now and get back on track rather than throw away their futures for some dumb high school fling.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, my watch is 7:45 Mountain Standard time, We synched?” It’s really three watches, I couldn’t decide which one worked best for this particular mission so I went with all. 

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes and I ham it up even more.

“Then we're on go mode for lunch, 12:05,” I sweep the area, really making a show of it.

“Yes, Chad, we're a go,” she waves her hand in front of my face” but we're not Charlie's Angels, okay?” She doesn’t seem very amused, and she shouldn’t. What we are doing isn’t funny, but it’s necessary. Right?

“I can dream, can't I?” she almost cracks a smile and rolls her eyes before walking away.

She’s pretty, the type of pretty my parents would appreciate. She’s also the kind of smart my parents would appreciate. Maybe if I brought her home they would stop making jokes about me marrying Troy. That’s a big maybe.

I can’t entertain that thought for too long though, I have to focus on saving Troy. How am I supposed to join a rival team and fight him for most championship rings if he is playing Danny Zuko on Broadway instead?

We set down the last trophy on the table just in time for Troy to walk into the room. He looks shocked, he should, it's clearly an intervention.

"Spider Bill Netrine, class of '72,” I hold up bills team photo, “He was the MVP in the league championship game.”

“Sam Nedler, class of '02,” Zeke joins in, “also known as Sammy Slamma Jamma. Captain, MVP of the league championship team.” 

“The Thunder Clap,” the whole team claps in unison, “Hap Hadden, '95. Led the Wildcats to back-to-back city championships,” Jason set the photo back down.

“Legends, one and all,” I make eye contact with Troy. He seems upset already, like he doesn’t want to be here. “Do you think that any of these Wildcat legends became legends by getting involved in musical auditions days before the league championships?”

“Get your head in the game!” The team barks behind me.

“No,” I can see the wheels turning in Troy’s head “These Wildcat legends became legends because they never took their eye off the prize,” 

“Get your head in the game!” They chant again. 

“Who was the first sophomore ever to make starting varsity?” I prompt.

“Troy!” It’s like a church call and response.

“Who voted him team captain this year?” I turn away from Troy to look at the rest of the team.

“Us!” Or like soldiers.

“And who is gonna get their butts kicked in Friday's championship game if Troy's worried about an audition?” I need this to get through to him.

“We are,” This time they are pitiful and out of synch.

“Guys,” There's a small laugh but he is visibly frustrated, “come on, there's twelve people on this team, not just me.” A captain isn’t just another player, that's his saying, when did he forget it.

“Just 12? Oh, no,” I motion for the boys to hand me the last photo, “I think you're forgetting about one very important 13th member of our squad,” I hold up Jack Bolton’s photo.

“My dad,” some of the anger dropped from his voice, replaced by sadness. I want to stop now, to apologize for clearly hurting him, but I can’t. He needs to remember why he used to be so devoted to us as a team.

“Yes, Troy. Wildcat basketball champion class of 1981.” I push the picture towards him. “Champion, father, and now coach, It's a winning tradition like no other.”

“Guys, if you don't know that I'll put 110% of my guts into that game, then you don't know me,” I can tell now that he has been listening, his voice is more frantic.

“But we just thought…” He cuts me off.

“I'll tell you what I thought, I thought that you're my friends,” I thought you were my friend too. “Win together, lose together, teammates.”

“But suddenly the girl... and the singing,” I lean onto the table covering the other boys as they set up the laptop and aim the webcam.

“Man, I'm for the team!” He yells it at us, “I've always been for the team, she's just someone I met, alright? The singing thing is nothing, a way to keep my nerves down. It means nothing to me. You're my guys and this is our team, Gabriella is not important.” he scans around to make sure we all believe him. The glaze over his eyes betray his energetic voice, he’s about to cry. “I'll forget about her, forget the audition and we'll get that championship. Everyone happy now?”

No. Yes? I’m not happy that Troy is so hurt, but I am happy to have him back. 

We didn’t only plan an ambush though, I place my hand on his shoulder and lead him out to the track field. The impromptu pep rally begins. The band, the cheerleaders, everyone at 100% to cheer Troy up. The team lifts him into the air and he looks like he is actually smiling, remembering exactly why he holds up his rep as the basketball boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the new chapter!  
> The next chapter starts back into canon divergence and we're near the end of HSM 1 which means so close to the HSM 2 timeline and the reason I am writing this fic in the first place.  
> I know this is already so long but thank you for sticking around.  
> -Beexe


	13. Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The theatre is the only place Ryan feels himself, he can't lose that now.

Ryan pov

Sharpay grabs my hand as we head down the hall and pulls me towards the chemistry class. “Something isn't right.”

We peer in and I can see Chad and two other players taking to the scholastic team. My mind races, back to the party, back to the texts, to the radio silence after detention. I’m so stupid.

“They must be trying to figure out a way to make sure Troy and Gabriella beat us out, The jocks rule most of the school, but if they get Troy into a musical, then they've conquered the entire student body.” It’s the perfect plan, distract us so I don’t have time to recruit well enough, they’d be guaranteed some sort of chance.

“And if those science girls get Gabriella hooked up with Troy Bolton, the scholastic club goes from drool to cool,” then everyone is in love with Troy, selling more tickets, winning them more funding and slashing what little drama already has. Destroy us from the inside. “Ryan, we need to save our show from people who don't know the difference between a Tony Award and Tony Hawk.” She huffs off and I stay at her heels, where I should have stayed the whole time.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day lunch is interrupted by a sudden pep rally. As if more things need to go wrong in this cafeteria, maybe I’ll just spend lunch in the auditorium from now on, save myself the trouble. On my way out I see Kelsi clearly looking for something.

“Hey,” she stops me, “you probably haven’t but just in case have you seen Gabriella? We were supposed to rehearse over lunch and she never showed. She hasn’t been late before and I know she’s here today.” She’s still peeking around, not really looking at me.

“No,” I barely get it out, I knew they were practicing, everyone deserves a right to practice, but with the show's composer?

“Oh, well thanks anyway. I’ll see you tonight at sets,” she walks away still searching.

I know that I’m not the most important person in the drama department, but I have given all of my time to help out and for what? To have the only place I feel happy be crushed. I don’t care if I come off cocky, or full of myself, I can’t let this happen. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days pass by fairly peacefully. Keep my head down and to myself. I keep my phone completely off during rehearsals and stay extra late to get in choreography now that the sets are finished. 

I am at my locker trading my backpack for my dance bag when Chad walks up.

“Hey, I was hoping you’d have a second to talk?” I don't even turn to look at him.

“I don’t actually,” I slam my locker and try to walk away.

“Whoa, wait,” He grabs my arm and I jump, not the response I was hoping for, makes me look weaker than I already am.

“Don’t touch me,” I finally look up at him, “and don’t talk to me.”

“Dude why are you being such a drama queen, I just…” that’s all it takes. I can’t just swallow my distaste anymore.

“Yeah drama queen, good one, how original. God, I can't believe you are exactly like the rest of them. You guys really never grow up huh?” I am spitting my words at him, but I am tired of this cycle.

“The rest of them? Care to say more about that? I’d love to hear what you really think of all my friends.” _ I did already, at your house you asshole _ . I bet he forgot already. It was just another step in his plan.

“You’re all bull-headed assholes. Do you even care that what you do affects other people? Do you care about anyone besides yourself and your team?” My bag slips off my shoulder onto the ground.

“I…” I don’t care what he is going to say.

“No. You clearly don’t. If you did you’d be able to see it’s not just me and Sharpay that your little scheme is hurting. You don’t have enough room in your shriveled jock brain to consider that your actions could have unintended consequences.” I pick up my bag stomp down the hallway.

“You really wanna act like this Evans? Like you have never done anything wrong? Like you haven’t been doing all you can to stay atop your sparkly drama throne.” I turn back around for a second, if he was any closer I would throw a punch.

“Don’t pretend you know anything about me.” I’m not this person, I am not the diva who blows up when things don’t go his way, this is different. I thought this was different. It’s not, It’s the same as every other time I’ve been myself around someone outside of the theatre. “Whatever your part in all of this is, it didn’t have to involve me. I have never done anything to you. I am not my sister. Fuck you for making me think you understood that.”

I run out to the car, staring out the car window completely numb. I should feel exhilarated right? That’s how boys seem to feel in movies when they get in fights. Maybe if I had actually hit him.

“Ryan what are you doing, where have you,” Sharpay appears outside the car and as soon as I register her voice I crumble, the tears just flood out.

“Is this something an iced latte will help or do we need serious snacks?” I can’t even think about food right now.

“Home please.” I try to calm down and breathe but it isn’t working. 

“We don’t have sn..” I don't let her finish.

“Sharpay, take me home now please.” she seems to finally get that this isn’t something that I’m just going to get over.

“Okay.” she nods and gets in the car.

The whole ride is too quiet, too tense, too long. I have the door open before the car is at a full stop. I am upstairs and in my room before she even makes it inside. There is a small tap on my door.

“No.” The handle starts to turn anyway “Can you please just leave me the fuck alone!”

The door stops opening but she speaks through it anyway “I’m just worried about you Ry, do you promise you’ll get me if you need anything?”

“I promise, now please go away.” I feel like I am going to cave in on myself. The door shuts but there are no footsteps.

“You can’t sit right outside my door either,” I hear footsteps that gradually get quieter, “We learned faking steps from the same teacher and I’m better at it than you.”

Then I finally hear the huff, and her bedroom door closes. 

I whip my hat against the wall, it’s the only thing within reach to throw. I am so tired. 

I don’t know when I’ll learn. I don’t know when I’ll stop being so naive. I just feel so incredibly stupid, it all feels so wrong now. I should have been smart enough to consider this as some sort of cruel joke. I just let my guard down way too quickly, he really seemed like he understood. I…

I can feel more tears forming in my eyes, sobs tickling in my chest, but I try my best to swallow them. I’m not going to be this person. I have chosen to not be a lot of things this far in my life, I can choose to not be sad.

It takes about an hour for me to feel strong enough to go to Sharpay’s room

“They are absolutely trying to ruin the musical. They are trying to ruin the whole department. The geeks, the jocks, those freaks at auditions. So what’s your plan?’ She just looks at me wide eyed. 

“I don’t have a plan yet.” Why not? We’ve had two days?

“Bullshit.” I’m still angrier than I was hoping but there is no way she doesn’t have something cooking.

“Ryan.” She says it so gently. 

“What?” I’m grinding my teeth, I know what she’s gonna say. I don’t want to answer questions right now. I want to fix all of this “Do you suddenly not want to protect our theatre anymore? For what? For a boy that hasn’t given you the time of day a single time in four years? I didn’t think you were this pathetic.”

“I need you to leave my room right now.” she gets up and starts to move me back out her door.

“What? No we have to figure out what...” She just keeps pushing.

“You are acting insane right now, I don’t know what's causing this but it isn’t just the musical.” Why am I never allowed to be angry, why do I never get to throw a fit? 

“It is.” If this were her this upset I would be expected to play along and deal with it.

“Is this what we are doing now Ryan, lying to each other?” She sounds hurt but I just can’t calm down. Not until I know everything is fixed.

“Will everyone stop treating me like they know exactly how my brain works? Just because we are twins doesn’t mean that you know everything about me. You don’t. I don’t.” I slam her door back in her face and walk down to the garage. I don’t know where I’m going just getting out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!  
> I actually wrote most of the fight well before now, but have been putting it off. Well, It's finally time. I promise things won't be this angsty forever.


	14. Feeling small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad has a great mom

Chad POV

“Whatever your part in all of this is, it didn’t have to involve me. I have never done anything to you. I am not my sister. Fuck you for making me think you understood that.” Ryan bolts out of the school and I just freeze.

I don't know how this happened, I just wanted to talk. My part in all of what? What does Ryan think is going on. I was hoping he could help me understand how to support Troy with this whole singing thing. 

_ Do you care about anyone besides yourself? _

His voice just replays in my head. Maybe he is right, maybe I haven’t been caring enough about others, not really. I pretend being afraid of losing was for Troy’s sake, but it isn’t. It’s scary though, to have a best friend for ten years and suddenly they are an entirely new person. 

“Chad,” Zeke waves his hand in front of my face, “you coming to practice or are you just gonna stand here all night?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” It takes me a couple blinks to fully come back to reality. I’ve got to work on a plan, figure out why Ryan is mad and then make it up to him and Troy at the same time.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My mom is waiting for me outside when practice is over. Normally I ride home with Troy and his dad but these last couple days, seeing Troy so hollow, I’ve felt too guilty to.

Mom doesn’t even have to ask me what’s up, I just immediately spill my guts. I tell her everything, about Troy singing, about my dumb plan, about Ryan hating me.

“Slow down for me, take a deep breath,” she reaches one hand over and gently squeezes mine. She doesn’t take her eyes off the road, which is relieving. 

“I ruined everything,” I try to hide the sniffle, but I’m sure she hears it. Talking to her always makes me feel like I'm a little kid again. I would walk to her room after I got off the bus and crawl into her bed, she would pet my hair and tell me everything was okay, Judge Judy would play in the background. I’m too old for that now though, and this isn’t kids making fun of braids. “No you did not,” she pulls into our driveway, “But from the sounds of it you did make a mistake. Maybe a couple mistakes, but we all make mistakes. Do you admit this was wrong?”

She speaks to me like I’m small still, “Yes,” I sniffle again.

“Okay, so what’s the first step when you hurt someone's feelings?” I want to tell her I’m not seven anymore but her voice is so calming, it works. She just wants me to be able to work through this.

“Apologize?” I don’t know why I word it like a question, I know it’s the answer.

“Exactly right, and then how do you /show/ that you are sorry,” She finally turns the car off and turns to face me. 

“I make sure to act supportive and excited when they tell me about it even if I don’t like what they like that much.” It sounds so simple, but it never is.

“So, you know the two things you need to do? Do you think if you had really ruined everything that you’d be able to make it up in two steps.” I shake my head, she’s right of course. I don’t know why I didn’t talk to her about this before. 

“Give me your hand, palm up,” she isn’t really asking, she pulls my arm across the car and plants a kiss onto my palm and closes my fingers around it. I can’t believe she even remembers that book.

“Mom, I’m seventeen.” I laugh a little to hide that I'm crying again.

“Exactly, your kiss is over ten years old now and while it never runs out it could use some freshening up every once in a while. Now no matter how much you think you messed up you can be positive not everyone hates you, because I will always love you.” She opens my hand back up and presses it against my cheek. 

“Thank you, I love you too,” She presses her left hand against her own cheek. 

“I remember,” She laughs and opens her door. “Now are you gonna tell me about these Ryan and Taylor characters over dinner or do I need to pry it out of you now.”

I promise to tell her all of the details over dinner as long as she makes baked mac and cheese which she would no matter what.

I start to formulate my apology, starting with texting Troy.

_ Hey i hope ur ok i need 2 talk 2 u @ lunch tmw _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you again for reading. We are quickly approaching my favourite scene in the first movie which I am very excited for.  
> If anyone is wondering about the book being referenced in this chapter that would be The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn. I loved it as kid.


	15. Milkshakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan spills his guts

Ryan POV

I've said a lot of things tonight that I’m not sure I mean and I have no clue how I would even begin to apologize for them. Some of them I did mean though, when is it my turn to be Ryan Evans instead of Sharpay’s brother or part of the pair. I don’t even really know who I am, what I like, what I want to do. 

Everyone else assumes it’s theatre. Maybe they are right? But there are so many more pieces to a theatre than just actors. Sharpay knows she wants to be a star. Maybe I want to be a choreographer, I’ve been having fun doing that for East even if it’s exhausting. Or maybe I wanna be a manager, help others be stars, I know I’m good at it. Or a director? What if I don’t want to do theatre at all, I haven’t tried too much else?

I love my sister, I do, but she makes it hard for me to be my own person. Or maybe I make it hard and blame it on her.

This whole time I’ve just been sitting in the car in our garage, I never even pulled out. I don’t even like driving that much, it just seems like a way to cool down, in movies driving seems to heal. Short drives heal anger, road trips heal existential crises. 

But I have school tomorrow and therefore no time to drive across the country to try and find myself. Especially since I know where I am, it's not L.A., or New York, or even Chicago. I'm right here in Albuquerque, New Mexico, hiding in my car.

_ Milkshakes? _

Sharpay appears in the garage only a couple minutes later and climbs into the passenger seat. I stay quiet for the first part of the drive, but once we are through the drive-thru and parked in the Baskin-Robbins’ parking lot I crack.

“I’m sorry I acted so crazy today, I’m just really freaked out about all of this. I mean, all of it. The Troy thing, college applications coming up, I just…” I don’t know, everything feels so overwhelming.

“Ry,” She takes a sip and then angles a little bit to look at me, “I get it, it’s frustrating that they are coming in now and messing everything up. But that isn’t all that’s going on here.”

“What?” I nearly choke trying to swallow and just look at her.

“You know exactly what, I’ve seen you handle stress, I’ve seen you talk to agents and Dad’s friends at the country club. I’m not dumb. This isn’t just the play or college. I can’t force you to tell me but know that I know it’s something.” I try to think of anything I can say, but really I don’t know why I don’t want to tell her. Maybe part of me wants to protect Chad from any plans she pulls. Maybe I don’t want her to try and tell me it was anything more than friendly as if I’d want something like that. Maybe I just like having a secret.

“Chad Danforth,” I say flatly, chewing on my straw.

“Troy’s goon? What about him?” Then I see it click in her head, “What did he do to you?” I really didn’t think it was possible to sound murderous around a mouthful of Reese’s shake.

So I give in, it’s not like there is much to tell. A three-month friendship that started with an unfortunate slip at a Halloween party and ended in me being ignored. Of course, I don’t leave out some of the juicier details, like running up the phone bill texting literally all night for the first few days, or how I know where he lives. I even had my phone over to Sharpay so she can read every last message.

“Ryan, oh my god. We are gonna talk later about some of those messages.” She hands me the phone back and catches my eyes. “For right now, though, I will come up with something. These lunks will ruin our play over my dead body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I may or may not type out a transcript of what I think their texts were like because I can't imagine what it must have been like Sharpay to read the mood I had in my head while Ryan is totally oblivious to it.


End file.
